


(in)competent

by darlingdany



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Virgil Sanders - Freeform, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 06:03:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14743317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingdany/pseuds/darlingdany
Summary: He had to do at leastonething right today.





	(in)competent

**Author's Note:**

> i had a bad day and i had old patton angst i'd been wanting to write that happened to relate directly to how i was feeling.  
> can be read as romantic or platonic royality, that's why i used both tags.  
> warnings: self-esteem issues, negative thoughts, feeling useless, lots of crying

Was it possible for Patton to be too emotional? He’d been pacing back and forth in his room for the last half hour, thinking about it. He represented Thomas’ emotions! He couldn’t be _too_ emotional! Could he? Well, normally, he handled them pretty well. Sure, he hid the bad ones in the past, but he’d gotten better about it! He let the others know if he was having an off day, or if he needed a second cookie, or if he wanted a hug. He didn’t mope quietly in his own room, or hide behind fake smiles, or say he was fine when he actually wasn’t. He sought out his famILY for help. He was open and honest to Thomas about his ups and downs. 

So why then, today, was he keeping to himself? 

Patton didn’t want to blame Logan. Really! It wasn’t Logan’s fault that Patton was too emotional but… did he have to say it so harshly? Patton realized after it’d happened that it wasn’t the comment that had bothered him but the tone it’d been delivered with. Logan had a temper, they all knew this, but it was usually directed towards Roman. That wasn’t any better, of course! Roman didn’t deserve Logan’s hostility, even if he did dish it back with ease. It’d just made Patton realize that he wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of Logan’s ire. Usually, Logan just expressed frustration with Patton’s puns or dismissed his silliness entirely. Sure, that hurt pretty badly, too, but Patton had grown used to it. 

Today, though… Logan had snapped at Patton for not having a good enough grip on his feelings regarding a recent crush and had said Thomas was suffering because of it. They had more important things to do than daydream about the color of his eyes or what it would feel like to hold his hand. He’d actually sounded angry and had taken a step back after berating Patton for three long minutes. “ _Just…_ ” He had sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “ _You’re being_ too _emotional. Give me an hour, won’t you?_ ” 

Patton looked at the cat clock on the wall. It’d been forty five minutes since Logan’s request. Patton’s room certainly wasn’t helping with his mood. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. He glanced back and forth, from the door leading to the hallway, to the door leading to Memory Lane. Going into Memory Lane would only make things worse in the long run and Patton knew this, he was fully aware of what a bad decision it would be, but… Short term, a trip to some of Thomas’ happier memories would make him feel better in the now and… 

Patton shook his head and stormed out of his room with determination. He flinched at the door slamming behind him but continued on shortly after, just a bit further down the hall. He hesitated in front of the decorated door for just a moment before he knocked. It sounded exactly like Anna’s knock but he resisted singing about building snowmen. 

The door creaked open and Patton hurriedly put on a smile ~~(no, Patton, bad, why are you hiding, you should know better)~~. Virgil looked tired and he still had one earbud in. He seemed happy to find Patton at the entry. “Hey, Patton.”

“Hiya, kiddo!” Patton chirped, rocking a bit on his feet. “I was wondering, do you wanna help me make dinner tonight?” 

Virgil shuffled a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m actually… in the middle of something.” He glanced surreptitiously behind him and into his room. Patton resisted the urge to lean around and get a look. “It might take me through dinner to finish.” 

“Virge,” Patton said, only slightly scolding, “you’ll make sure to eat, though, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Virgil laughed in that breathless huff sort of way, the one that always made Patton’s heart beat extra fast. “I will but it’s… this project is really important to me.” Virgil sounded the way Roman did when he spoke about something he was super duper proud of.

“Okay,” Patton smiled and found it felt less unnatural than before. “As long as you _comb_ down for food at some point, busy bee!” Patton clasped his hands tightly behind his back, waiting for the joke to land, waiting for another quiet chuckle from Virgil, to be blessed with one of those rare smiles. 

It never came. 

Virgil gave him a little wave with his fingers before turning away and shutting the door.

Patton’s entire frame shrunk, his expression crumbling. Tears pricked hot at the corners of his eyes. Too emotional _and_ you can’t even get Virgil to _smile_? Wow, Patton, way to go, you’re on a roll today. Before he could start crying in front of Virgil’s room, Patton hurried down the staircase and into the living room. He sniffled and used the sleeves of his cardigan to wipe at his damp cheeks. “It’s fine,” he muttered to himself, “no big deal.” 

And it _might_ have been fine if Patton had a moment to collect himself. It might have, eventually, not been a big deal, if he’d had just a second to pull himself together. In the very next breath however, Patton was hit with the realization that Thomas hadn’t talked to any of his loved ones today. It came at him like a ton of bricks and Patton collapsed to the floor, gasping. He clutched at his heart, as if he could pull the aching thing from his chest. 

Not a single text from Joan or Talyn, not one phone call from Mom or Dad. Thomas hadn’t had a chance to respond to fans on Twitter or Tumblr. Even Kenny, Kenny who responded nine times out of ten, hadn’t answered. It was entirely possible that everybody was busy, or their phones had died, or they hadn’t seen the messages, or they were sleeping, or they hated Thomas, and never wanted to talk to him again— 

Patton pulled his cardigan off completely and stifled a sob into the fabric. _Not that one,_ he tried to think through the pain, _don’t overreact, Patton, you’re being too emotional._ He practiced what Virgil had taught them. He inhaled for four seconds, and held for seven seconds, and exhaled for eight seconds. He did it three times before the panic started to subside and then for another three rounds before he could finally breathe easy. “It’s _fine_ ,” he said with far more certainty this time, even as his voice came out raspy and choked. 

He sat still on the floor for another half hour, feeling too sore from his limbs going so tense from the fear that had gripped him so suddenly. He’d make sure Thomas replied to some fans online before bed. He would send _goodnight, I love you_ texts to all his friends and family. It would be okay. He had to stop making mountains out of molehills. 

Eventually, he made it to the kitchen, with blurry, tear filled vision and on wobbly legs. When it took three tries to pour a glass of water, he found himself crying into a dish towel. He couldn’t decide if he ought to make something simple or something complicated. On the one hand, an easy to make dish would guarantee he couldn’t mess anything else up. He’d already made enough mistakes today; it wasn’t like he needed another. Then again, if he went complex, it would keep his mind off of how incompetent he’d been so far.

It took another fifteen minutes but Patton finally had the makings of dinner figured out. He’d started a Spotify playlist on his phone, electing to choose a sad one. Why not try to get all the sad out at once, right? He was careful as he made the spaghetti, trying his best to not cry into the sauce or noodles. He’d use regular salt because he knew how to cook and pasta was easy, he’d done it lots of times before, and so what if he wasn’t particularly hungry? So what if the scent of various herbs were making him a bit nauseous and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep until morning? 

He had to make dinner for his kiddos. He had to do at least _one_ thing right today.

So focused on his task and making sure nothing else went wrong, Patton was entirely unaware that he was no longer alone.

“Darling?”

Patton startled, dropping the wooden spoon. Red sauce splattered everywhere. That was the final straw, apparently, because Patton lasted all of two seconds before tears were streaming down his cheeks again. Loud, unapologetic sobs spilled from his lips, even as he tried to wrap himself up in his own arms, crouching down to the floor. 

“Patton!” 

“I’m sorry! I know I ke-keep messing up t-today.” Patton tried desperately to stop the flow of tears, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyelids. He heard the click of the stovetop dials being turned off. _Good job, Patton, you almost set the house on fire_. An arm wound around his upper back and underneath his legs. He wasn’t sure how it was managed, given his awkward position, but quite suddenly, he was being lifted up. 

Hiccuping a little, Patton wiped at his eyes and blinked at whoever was carrying him. Roman’s jaw was set but he looked concerned. Patton wondered if today had felt so off because Roman had been away on an adventure. He had told all of them that it would take the better part of the day and that he may or may not make it back in time for dinner. _Can’t even have dinner ready for Ro after a long day of questing,_ Patton thought miserably, _you’re so useless. You can’t do anything right._

“Come now, dearest, let me see that pretty face of yours.” 

Patton stubbornly refused, tilting his chin down. He knew his eyes were red, his cheeks flushed and blotchy. His khakis were stained with tomato sauce and he felt even worse about making a mess on the couch. Roman’s fingers carded through his hair and Patton whimpered. He leaned away from Roman’s touch. He hadn’t done anything to deserve being comforted, no matter how badly he wanted it. 

“ _Patton_ ,” Roman drew his name out and he was so startled to hear the Dad Voice from Roman that he did finally look up. His expression was patient but stern. “You help us all the time. Let me help you.” 

It was silent for what felt like a very long time but Roman never once fidgeted or sighed or showed any signs of irritation at having to deal with Patton’s struggle. Why was it so hard to talk about what had happened? Roman was normally so _easy_ to talk to. They were both so open with their feelings, so unabashed about the way things affected them. Roman reached forward and carefully took one of Patton’s hands in his own. 

Patton clung to it like a lifeline and took a deep breath. “Nothing’s gone right today, Ro.” He mumbled, keeping his gaze trained on their interlocked fingers. “I was messing everything up being too emotional, and I got upset because a dumb joke didn’t get even get a _smile_ , and then I overreacted because Thomas hasn’t talked to any of his loved ones, and I couldn’t even make dinner in time for you, you must be so hungry, I let you down, I’m sorry—” 

Roman was smiling. Patton’s heart leapt into his throat. 

“You absolute cinnamon roll,” he used their linked hands to pull Patton closer. “Too good for this world, too pure.” Roman rested his forehead against Patton’s. He closed his eyes but Patton kept his open, confused. “You represent emotions. You might go overboard sometimes but that’s okay. The alternative is bottling them up and that’s worse.” He blinked, meeting Patton’s bewildered look, “right?” 

Patton swallowed. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. He gave the tiniest of nods. 

“Maybe they didn’t hear your joke,” Roman continued. He lifted Patton’s hands to his lips and kissed his knuckles. “Maybe they did hear the joke and didn’t get it and felt embarrassed about asking you to repeat it. It’s perfectly alright that you got upset. That’s _allowed_.” 

Patton’s eyelids fluttered as he tried to stop from crying again. It didn’t work and his eyes stung as more tears fell. How much longer until he ran out completely? 

“These kinds of things happen,” Roman reassured, using his free hand to swipe his thumb underneath Patton’s eyes. “There’s so much that could have happened there. If we think about all of them, we’d never stop.”

Roman moved back just a bit and took Patton’s face in his hands. Patton, with nothing to hold onto, clasped his hands together in his lap. “And finally, last but certainly not least.” Roman held Patton’s gaze with fierce intensity. “You could never _ever_ let me down.” 

With that, Roman pulled away. He snapped his fingers and the two of them were in their holiday sweaters and cozy sweatpants. He opened his arms wide for Patton. He hesitated (because did he really deserve to be cuddled, did he deserve to be treated this kindly, after messing up all day, and doing such a bad job of what he was supposed to _be_ ) but Roman wiggled his fingers and Patton broke. He gave the royal a watery smile before climbing into his lap and curling up there, tucking his head underneath Roman’s chin. 

“I love you,” Roman said and Patton focused on the rumble from his voice as he spoke, on the steady beat of his heart, of his chest rising and falling with each breath. “I’ve had these days. The ones where you don’t feel good enough, or like nothing you do is worth it, or when you’re sure everything’s gone wrong and it’ll never get better.” 

Patton’s hand fisted in Roman’s sweater. 

“You remember what you told me on one of those days?” 

Patton was growing sleepier by the moment and so he shook his head guiltily. 

“No, it’s okay,” Roman kissed the top of his head. “ _We keep moving forward_. Straight from a Disney movie itself.” Roman chuckled. “We find the light in the dark. And I don’t know about you, but I think snuggling with a Prince is pretty lit.” 

Patton giggled. Roman gave a delighted gasp at the sound. 

“You go ahead and take a nap, okay, Honey Bunches of Oats?” Roman gently ran his fingers through the hair at the back of Patton’s head. “I’ll wake you up in a bit.” 

True to his word, Roman woke Patton up roughly an hour later. The table was being set by Virgil when Patton came to. He apologized profusely for having missed the joke and for not having checked on him sooner and Patton had shot a halfhearted glare at Roman for telling. Logan, immediately after setting the serving dish of pasta down on the dining table, had offered Patton an apology as well. When they all sat down for dinner, Roman entertained them with the story of his adventure in the Fantasy Realm. 

Patton wasn’t fixed completely just yet but with Virgil smiling warmly at him, and Logan giving the table his full attention as opposed to being distracted with a book, and Roman holding his hand so tightly the entire time… Well, he was getting there.

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to nick for the busy bee/honey _comb_ joke bc it's brilliant and they deserve the credit  
> [read on tumblr](https://notveryglittery.tumblr.com/post/174203744917/)


End file.
